


If You Have A Little Faith In Me

by Loor



Series: Alex and Dylan Universe [2]
Category: The Cab
Genre: F/M, Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wrapped Tour, past catching up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3187871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loor/pseuds/Loor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after Dylan's last Warped tour Clandestine Industries replaces Vans as the main sponsor. Pete Wentz asks all bands that are somehow connected to him to join the tour in celebration of this event, inviting significant others and kids along the way.<br/>And so Dylan finds herself on the verge of an amazing journey with old friends and a brand new fiancé.<br/>However, when an old acquintance joins the festivities, Warped tour promises to be a lot more tumultuous than Dylan remembers it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to This I Promise You

** Dylan. **

I stare out the window and watch as the trees quickly pass by. It’s nowhere near noon yet, but I am already sweating like a pig. The sun is burning and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.

I can’t help but think about the last time I made this drive. It still amazes me how much things can change in just a couple of years. Back then rain had been pouring down, soaking me as soon as I had stepped out of the cab. I had been alone and feeling hurt and confused.

Merely five years have passed and yet I am a completely different person. I have a stable life now, being a freelance journalist for Rolling Stone and working part time for Decaydance records. According to Pete I have a sixth sense for finding the next big thing in music. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve said goodbye to London and moved to New York city, never regretting the decision.

And most importantly, I was able to figure out my feelings. I found an amazing guy who had a tremendous amount of patience for me and was able to glue the pieces of my hurt soul back together. I am reminded of that when I feel fingers being linked with my own. It causes me to divert my gaze from the passing landscape.

I find Alex staring at me with a smile on his lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asks me after staring in silence for a couple more minutes.

“About how lucky I am, how sometimes it’s still hard to believe you really are mine,” I pointedly ignore Johnson’s snort coming from the front seat. “And also about how much things have changed since the last time I was in a cab on my way to Warped tour.”

“Yeah, so much has changed in five years,” Johnson offers his opinion. “It’s still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that Clandestine Industries took over as a main sponsor.”

Johnson isn’t looking at us while speaking and misses the eye roll Alex sends in his direction. I smile when Alex glances in my direction again and tighten my grip on his hand for a moment. Words aren’t necessary to make him understand that hadn’t been really what I meant. But of course, Johnson doesn’t know as much about my past as Alex, so it’s not odd that he misinterprets my words.

Alex simply hums in response to Johnson’s statement, before saying, “Be glad Pete got the crazy idea to sponsor Warped when Vans decided to step aside. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be making this drive right now. Be excited!”

“I know I am excited!” I throw my own opinion into the conversation. “And very curious to see which bands are coming on tour.”

Sophie, Johnson’s girlfriend, chooses the next moment to join the conversation. “I heard a rumor that My Chemical Romance is coming out and that Pete got Bob Bryar to rejoin for Warped?”

The words could form a statement, but they come out as a question directed towards me. It causes Johnson to finally turn around in his seat, also casting a questioning glance in my direction.

“Hey, don’t look at me!” I raise my hands in defense. “I only helped out with the logistics of the tour. Pete personally took care of gathering all the bands. You might not say so, but Pete can be very secretive if he wants to.”

The others laugh before launching into a conversation about all the line-up rumors that they heard. It gets me even more curious about the bands that will be on this tour. All I know at the moment is that Pete has been calling everybody that is even the slightest bit connected to him, either via Decaydance Records or on a personal level. And he invited all of them and their families to join the tour. I have no idea who declined or accepted the invitation.

The conversation ends when the cab driver announces we have reached our destination. I pay the man and thank him for the drive before getting out of the car. I wave at Marshall and Joey and their girlfriends, whose cab pulled up behind ours. Alex is already busy unloading our luggage. He refuses to let me help, so I take a moment to take in our surroundings.

I can already feel the familiar buzz of excitement in the air. Crew members are running around, cabs are driving on and off. And there are tour buses, a lot more then I remember from my last Warped. I wonder if there is anybody who declined Pete’s invitation.

“Dylan!” I suddenly hear a familiar voice yell in my direction. Smiling I turn around just in time for Brendon’s embrace. At the same time I feel two small arms close around my right leg.

I quickly peck Brendon on the cheek before stepping out of the embrace and sweeping the little girl that is attached to my leg up from the ground. “Hey munchkin!” I say while ruffling her hair.

The three year old in my arms giggles before throwing her arms around my neck in a hug. “Missed you!” she whispers in my ear. The next moment she squirms out of my arms and back onto the ground. With a smile I watch her run off towards her mother. She really is a miniature version of Sarah, only with the hyper character of her father.

Brendon watches his daughter and wife for a moment. Then he turns his attention back to me. “So, how about you shed some light on the latest rumors for me?”

I shrug in response to his question. “Like I said to Johnson and Sophie earlier, there’s really not much I can tell you. Pete personally took care of contacting the bands and…”

Brendon interrupts me with a loud laugh, flashing me two rows of pearly whites in the process. His reaction catches me off guard, making me frown in confusion. Brendon only laughs harder when he sees the look on my face.

“I’m not talking about this tour,” he explains when his laughter eventually dies down. “I’m talking about you. Rumor has it – again – that Singer finally proposed to you.”

Understanding downs on me when I realize what Brendon is talking about. The engagement rumor has been swirling around in the press for a while now. And while neither Alex nor me talk about our relationship much, everybody knew it would only be a matter of time before the rumor became the truth. So I just smile as I raise my left hand and wiggle my ring finger at Brendon. My engagement ring sparkles in the sunlight. “It stopped being a rumor about three weeks ago,” I happily confirm.

Brendon mirrors my smile when he grabs my hand to study the ring. “Congratulations!” He hugs me tightly again.

When he releases me out of his embrace he goes to hug Alex, who has appeared next to me. “Dylan just told me the news. Congratulations, dude!”

Alex thanks him with a smile while he links our fingers together.

“It’s a relief really,” Brendon says with a smile. “Spencer and I were honestly doubting if you would ever have the guts to ask her.” He barks out a loud laugh. “But now that you did, please promise me,” he says, his face suddenly serious. “Promise me that you’ll take good care of her.”

Brendon’s genuine tone of voice reminds me of why I like him so much. When I started dating Alex, neither of us had much contact with the Panic guys anymore. It was only when both bands finished a new record and the label decided they should go on a co-headlining tour that I saw Brendon and Spencer again. I expected meeting them again would be awkward. And I was very cautious when meeting them for the first time, afraid of painful memories. But the moment I laid eyes on them it was as if something changed. I realized all of us had grown up, and mostly that what happened in the past wasn’t their fault. We talked about everything though and decided to leave the past be. Brendon immediately opened up to me again. And even though we don’t see each other as often as either of us would like, we’ve grown closer than we were the first time around. I guess it’s just hard not to like Brendon. The way he makes music, the way he can make you laugh, it’s great. The way he cares about people close to him is heartwarming.

Alex doesn’t question Brendon, of course he understands why he brings it up. He simply nods before saying, “Of course I will.” His voice is sincere and doesn’t leave any room for discussion.

Satisfied with Alex’s answer, Brendon gives him a quick nod.

The next moment the seriousness in the air is gone and the tone of the conversation is very light again. I feel Alex slip his arms around my waist and despite the warmth I can’t help but lean into the embrace. I soon lose track of the conversation between Brendon and Alex, instead focusing on our surroundings again.

In the distance I see the other members of The Cab dragging luggage towards the buses. I notice Dallon Weekes free Spencer from an embrace of the girl that was hugging my leg just minutes ago. Both of them wave when they catch my stare. In the corner of my eye I take notice of a few cabs arriving. Not really to my surprise, because I knew Pete would want this to be as big as it gets, not only the four current members of My Chemical Romance appear when the doors open, but also Bob Bryar and his wife step out.

And then, when a bunch of crew members pass on their way to the trucks with stage equipment and I notice them carrying the large red F, O and B filled with light bulbs, it suddenly hits me. It is in that moment that it downs on me how much I’ve missed being part of Warped. And I already know this is going to be an amazing summer.


	2. Chapter 2

** Ryan. **

‘Can’t wait for the summer and the Warped tour.’ Even though I haven’t listened to them in years, Blink 182 is still the first thing that flashes through my mind when I step out of the cab.

I stare around me while the driver opens the trunk to get my small suitcase. He protests when I hand him a few bills, but I tell him to keep the change. I’m too busy staring to care about the money right now. I’ve had my fair share of festivals and tours in the past. I have driven crappy vans across the country and spend nights in a tour bus traveling from one European festival to the next. But none of it can be compared to Warped.

It’s already quite late, the sun disappeared at the horizon a while ago, but the scene is still wide awake. There are people, presumably crew, loading stage lights in a truck nearby. I see boxes filled with what seem to be t-shirts being loaded into a van. It’s hard to see from this distance, but I think I recognize the The Academy Is… logo on a shirt peeking out of one of the boxes.

Suddenly my attention gets caught by a roar of laughter coming from behind me. Curiously I turn around to try and locate the source of the sound. I get hit by a wave of nostalgia when I spot Ian Crawford and Alex Marshall sitting in the dirt between two buses. It reminds me of when they were still an up and coming band and we took them out on their first tour. It’s almost funny to think how the tables have been turned in just a few years. While I have stepped away from music a while ago, they made it big after their second full length album dropped.

As I stare at them jamming together I notice, even from this distance, that Marshall looks fairly tired. I remember Patrick Stump mentioning The Cab being on a world tour a few weeks ago and I realize they probably arrived here with a minimum of sleep and a lack of clean clothes. In the same moment I remember that Ian actually left the band quite some years ago, around the same time I made one of the many not so smart decisions in my life and left my own band. I feel a pang of jealousy when I realize he is probably here to play guitar in that same band.

Alex and Ian let out another bout of laughter and I feel my own lips curl slightly upward as I continue to watch them. It’s quite interesting to see them interact with each other. I remember their split was very amicable, but as far as I knew they hadn’t been spending much time together since. And yet here they are, hanging out and clearly having fun together as if they were still the crazy teenagers they used to be. Another pang of jealousy rushes through my body at the same time that I wonder what else I have missed during my absence from the music business.

Before I can think about my absence for too long though, I hear a voice call out my name. I turn around just in time to catch Pete’s wide armed hug. It’s been years, long before I quit music, since I last received a hug from Pete. But his hugs haven’t changed one bit. They still make me feel secure, let me know when someone has my back. And suddenly I feel a bit less nervous about this whole adventure and seeing all the people I left behind.

“Ryan Ross, look at you. You look good!” Pete tells me after letting go of me. I don’t miss the underlying meaning in his words. “I’m glad to have you here. Come to my office so we can talk.”

I can’t help but smile when I follow Pete. His hugs aren’t the only thing that haven’t changed. He is just as excited about things as always.

Pete’s office turns out to be a simple trailer hooked behind one of the buses. Inside there are only a few small cabinets, a table, a few chairs and a big writer board against the far wall. The rest of the walls are a dull white, but barely visible as they are covered almost completely with pictures.

When I quickly glance over the photos I recognize quite a few faces. Old memories, old friends, most I haven’t talked to in what feels like too long. But the picture that catches my interest the most contains a face I don’t recognize. And though the resemblance is blatantly obvious, I still have to ask. “You have a daughter, Pete?”

Pete smiles at me and nods. “Her name is Lucy. She’s turning two next month.” He looks at the pictures of Bronx holding his younger half-sister with a fond expression. Then he sits down and gestures for me to do the same. “But I didn’t invite you to talk about my family, Ross. Tell me, how have you been?”

I stare at the pictures a few more seconds, again wondering about all the things I’ve missed while I’ve been gone, all the memories that have been made without me in them, before giving Pete my full attention. “I’ve been good,” I tell him while taking a seat across from him. “I just graduated from the University of Michigan, with a major in music theory and a minor in music management.”

Pete nods again. “Patrick told me you graduated cum laude. Congratulations!”

I smile at the mention of Patrick. Despite a successful solo career he still accepted to give guest seminars at Michigan on a regular basis. For quite some time he has been the only contact I had with the music business I grew up in. We never talked about the past or old friends and it was only recently I learned that he did mention me to Pete every now and then.

“Patrick has been great to me,” I tell Pete. “He is an amazing teacher. Although I never understood why he gives lectures, why he doesn’t spend all his time making music.”

“He does it because he cares. And he wants other people to care as well. It’s his way of fighting the growing indifference about music.”

I nod in understanding. “People seem to care less and less these days. I definitely did not miss that indifference while being away from the business.”

“So what did you miss?” Pete asks, blatantly to the point, just like always. “What made you accept my invitation?” I wonder how long he has been wanting to ask me that question. Probably since he first laid eyes on me tonight.

“Pretty much everything else. At first it was mostly the alcohol and the drugs I missed,” I generously admit. “But I know I had to take care of my problems. That’s why I started college in Michigan. I needed a new start, a life away from everything that happened in the past. I actually started as a literature major. But after a couple of months, after slowly getting my act together again, I realized I missed the music a lot more than I thought I would. My fingers itched to strum a guitar. Every time I passed the music store near campus I would longingly stare at the baby grand in the window. The first lesson I learned in college was that blood is thicker than water.”

“True, very true. I learned that lesson a long time ago, shortly after putting Fall Out Boy on hold. I’m glad you came to the same realization.” Pete sends me an easy smile, and it strikes me how we’re so alike and yet so different at the same time. Our mindsets seem to be the same sometimes and yet, I would never be so forgiving for all the crap I pulled on him and his – my old – friends.

Just as I am about to ask Pete why he decided to be all forgiving and invite me on this reunion tour, the door opens. “Hey Pete, sorry to interrupt you,” a voice says before I have time to turn and look who came in. I immediately feel my body freeze. “But I just wanted to ask if it’s okay if Bronx spends the night on our bus and …”

The voice stops midsentence and I don’t have to guess why. I can’t blame her. Goosebumps appear on my own arms and I can’t exactly tell if they’re the good or the bad kind. She still has that effect on me, even after all those years.

When I slowly turn around in my chair, I find Dylan staring at me. The look on her face is a mixture of surprise and pure horror. And again, I can’t blame her. The last time she saw me I was a ghost of a boy I used to be long ago, standing in the bathroom doorway and accusing her of things that were never really her fault to begin with.

Dylan continues to stare at me for another few seconds, the silence heavy between us. Then she seems to regain her composure. “Bronx is at our bus, he can stay the night if that’s okay with you,” she says as her gaze finally shifts to Pete. Without waiting for an answer she turns on her heels and walks out without another word.

The door slams closed behind Dylan and I can see Pete jump in surprise from the corner of my eye. The slamming sound echoes in the following silence. Neither Pete nor I say a word.

It’s only when I turn around to face Pete again, that he seems to find his voice again. “What the hell just happened?” he demands.

I let out a sigh and shrug. “ It’s… I totally deserved the cold shoulder she just gave me.”

“Why would you deserve that? She doesn’t even know you. Just because she’s friends with Brendon and Spencer doesn’t give her the right to…”

“Wait,” I interrupt Pete. “She’s friends with Brendon and Spencer?”

Pete nods. “Yeah, ever since they met on the tour Panic co-headlined with The Cab a couple of years ago. She’s actually friends with a lot of the old gang, but she’s particularly close to Brendon.” He frowns at me. “You seem surprised. What’s it to you?”

I stare at my hands on the table in front of me, unable to meet Pete’s gaze anymore. Apparently he doesn’t know everything about Dylan’s past. And while I know it is definitely not my task to tell Pete, I also don’t want to risk whatever it was that made him invite me on tour. I don’t want to lie, I’ve done enough of that in the past. So I swallow down my fear and try not to think about future consequences.

I look up at Pete again and take a deep breath before saying, “Dylan and I, we used to be friends a long time ago. Do you… Do you remember that girl I told you about a long time ago, the one I met in London way back before Fever hit the stores?”

Pete’s frown grows deeper. “The one that left you to go to college back in 05? What does she have to do with…” I can pinpoint the exact moment when Pete realizes who Dylan is, what she means to me. “Oh,” he breathes out. “Oh.”

I nod, confirming his unspoken conclusion.

It is silent for a while after that. When Pete speaks again, he strictly avoids any conversation about Dylan.

When I lay in my bunk later that night I have a hard time finding sleep. I stare at the ceiling and listen to Patrick’s steady snoring below me. My mind drifts to Dylan, our joint past and her renewed friendship with Brendon and Spencer. I wonder how, when and why that happened and what other moment I missed in her life. But mostly I wonder how the summer will play out, not completely sure if this will end well, for either of us.


	3. Chapter 3

** Dylan. **

People always say you have to be careful when making expectations. The bigger they are, the easier it gets to get disappointed. And they are absolutely right.

Only one week after the start of tour I already know this Warped isn’t going to be as amazing as I expected it would. Not at all. It’s strange how one person can push everything, the great music, the perfect weather and the lovely people, push everything to the background. Yet that’s exactly what Ryan does to me. He clouds my vision and paints the world around me a dull grey.

Ever since I walked into Ryan at Pete’s makeshift office I feel nauseous. The sudden flashes of dizziness that keep coming over me aren’t doing me any good either. Ryan’s presence makes me so stressed out I hardly sleep anymore. Not even Alex’s comforting arms around me are enough to make me drift away.

I can feel that people are on edge around me. Everybody senses something is wrong, but most people can’t tell what exactly is going on. Most people don’t know about my past with Ryan – everybody has secrets, even in a family as tight as Decaydance. And the people that do understand haven’t been very helpful either. Brendon was reluctant when Ryan first came up to him again, more cautious than I’ve ever seen him. But as the days pass, I can see old wounds being patched up, conversations becoming easier. I don’t blame him either, him and Ryan have always been two halves of a whole. Barely speaking to each other for years hasn’t changed that. When I talked to Pete, admitted that yeah, Ryan and I used to be friends once upon a time when I was good enough for him, he gave me a speech about second chances. I didn’t bother telling him Ryan got his second chance in London five years ago and blew it the same night. Even Alex isn’t able to comfort me. He tries very hard to be the supporting guy I love so much, but I can feel that he isn’t convinced I hate Ryan as much as I claim to. He pointed out that you have to love something before you can hate it. He insists that if it still hurts, I still care. No matter how much I deny that, once Alex has something stuck in that stubborn head of his, it’s hard to get it out again.

All the tension caused by Ryan’s arrival causes me to spend a lot more time on my own then I usually do, pondering about my past, my feelings, my friends. It makes it easy for Ryan to catch me alone a couple of days after the tour kicks off. I am sitting by myself in the very back corner of the stage, watching All Time Low soundcheck, when I notice Ryan climb the stairs to the stage. The moment he sits down next to me I get up to leave. However, I get overtaken by a wave of dizziness the second I am standing up straight. I sway from side to side a short moment and then two hands on my hips are steadying me. Ryan’s touch makes me jerk away from him immediately. “Do not touch me!” I hiss.

I can hear Gaskarth’s voice go a pitch higher than usual and from the corner of my eye I see how Rian is looking at us instead of the empty space in front of the stage. I don’t want to distract the band any further, so I wait another moment to see if I can stand up on my own now. The dizziness seems to have passed as fast as it appeared, so I turn my back on Ryan and descend the same stairs he climbed moments ago.

“Are you not going to watch the soundcheck?” Ryan asks before I’ve even reached the bottom of the stairs. The question makes me stop dead in my tracks. I cannot believe he has the guts to ask such a question and make it sound like he is surprised I don’t want to be in his company. I feel the anger boil up inside while I slowly turn around until I am facing Ryan again.

Ryan is standing a few steps above me, towering over me. It could have been intimidating, except it’s Ryan. So I don’t feel intimidated the least bit and just make a point of looking straight into his eyes when I speak. “Do you really expect me to answer that question? Well let me give you a small hint,” I say. My teeth are grinding together in an effort to keep me from yelling at him. “You should recognize this next move. You perfected it. It’s called turning my back and leaving you behind.” I turn on my heels to descend the stairs further, ignoring another wave of dizziness.

Apparently Ryan is still as stubborn as he was years ago, because I can clearly hear him following me. He grabs me by the elbow as soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs. I try to pull myself free again, but Ryan is a lot stronger than his skinny body makes you think. He pulls me into the small space between the stage and a van that is parked next to it, with what seems like minimal effort.

It isn’t until he sees me flinch from the pressure he is putting on my arm that his hand drops to his side. Both of his hands clench into fists and I notice he looks pissed off. He takes a deep breath, probably to try and calm himself down, before asking, “So this is it? Is this the way things are gonna be between us from now on?”

For a moment I look at Ryan and wonder what is up with all the ridiculous, oblivious questions. Then I just shrug and try to play it off as if I don’t care. “I don’t know about you, Ryan. But I am not going to smile like nothing is wrong, talk like everything is perfect, act like this is all a dream and…” I can already hear Alex’s I told you so in the back of my mind before I finish my sentence. “And pretend it’s not hurting me.”

Ryan doesn’t immediately react, but I can see all the anger suddenly flow out of his body. And it is at that moment that I realize that despite the fame, drugs and alcohol Ryan hasn’t changed one bit in the past ten years. Standing before me is the insecure, introvert boy that was almost too shy to talk to me the first time we met in London. The same boy that has always been there deep down, just covered up with a cocky attitude and substance abuse. It makes me pity him and I almost, almost feel sorry for the all problems he has been through in his life.

When Ryan eventually reacts, he voices my thoughts. “I’m not too sure how I am supposed to feel about all this,” he says. His voice is barely above a whisper. “And I definitely don’t know what I am supposed to say.”

I can’t even bring up the effort to be mad at him anymore. It seems as my own anger has disappeared along with his. I just let out a deep sigh and take a seat on one of the material cases nearby. “I don’t know either, Ryan,” I admit. “It’s just… I feel like I don’t hear anything from you for years and when I finally start to become happy again, you come out and say ‘whoa, she’s happy now, better crush it.’” With a shrug I add, “It may be too late to apologize, but I’d still like to see you try.”

Ryan lets out a sigh of his own while sitting down next to me. He is smart enough to keep his distance this time. None of us speaks. Ryan just sits there, staring at his hands in his lap. I sit next to him in silence, waiting for him to say something. Do something.

After a while I realize I am paying more attention to the sound of All Time Low’s soundcheck coming from the stage than I am to the boy sitting next to me. I decide to get up and do so without another word. Ryan doesn’t make a move to stop me when I start walking away and for a moment I think he is just going to let me walk away.

When he finally speaks though, his voice makes me come to a standstill immediately. “I’ve had so many words, but I had no courage.” I don’t miss the tremble in his voice, the insecurity. “I hate that I never said I love you. Because that’s how I felt. It wasn’t the mushy-gushy teenage stuff, it was being in grown-up love. It was real. I should have given anything and everything for you. Because God, I loved you, Dylan!”

My back is still turned to Ryan, but I can feel him stare at me. “You loved me?” I ask through gritted teeth. Now that I am not looking at Ryan anymore it is easy to feel the anger flare up again. But I can’t yell at him. It feels as if he is not worth my energy. Instead I merely shake my head in disbelief.

How Ryan dares to tell me he loved me after choosing his own dreams over me and then screwing me over five years later is beyond me. It make me mad. Yet, when I turned around to face Ryan again I am smiling. I know my next words are going to hurt him and that give me a strange sense of satisfaction.

“Well then I guess I got lucky,” I tell him. He frowns at me in confusion. “Because I liked you. I may have even loved you once upon a time. But you see, the differences between like, love and in love are quite simple. They are the same as the differences between for now, for a while and forever. And I was never in love with you, Ryan.”

As I expected, Ryan’s face falls at my words. I swear I can hear him whimper. His reaction makes a bit of the satisfied feeling be replaced by a bit of guilt, but not enough to take back my words. We both know he deserved to hear them.

When Ryan speaks again his voice is weak and I can barely make out the words. “Did you ever miss me?” he mutters. I have to strain to hear him, involuntarily moving closer to understand him better. “We didn’t exactly talk about it last time we… met. And I have been wondering about it.”

I raise my arms and groan, but it is more out of disbelief than frustration. “Did you not listen to any of the voice mails, did you not read any of the e-mails I sent you after leaving Vegas? Of course I missed you!” I state the obvious. Or at least it is obvious to me. “And how could I not? We spent all those moments hand in hand and then I was suddenly walking alone. And it hurt so much!”

Ryan’s response comes quick this time. “Sometimes I wonder...” He is staring off at some spot in the distance as if his thoughts are in a faraway place. I’m not sure he even listened to what I said until I hear the rest of this words. “Sometimes I wonder; if we hadn’t broken up, would we still be together? What if I hadn’t gone on tour and you hadn’t gone back to the UK? Would we still be perfect?”

Suddenly I realize how tired I really am. The feeling rushes over me like a tidal wave. I sigh as I sit down next to Ryan once again. This conversation is emptying any energy reservoir I had left when already suffering from a lack of sleep. It almost makes me wish we could go back to being mad and avoiding each other. However, there is no such thing as turning back time. So I just close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to get rid of the migraine I feel coming up.

“We were never really together, Ryan. That’s why I chose college over you. It was almost an easy decision,” I try to explain my view on the past, my fingers making quote marks in the air at the ‘easy’ part. “Sure, I remember accidental brushing of arms, the feeling of skin on skin. I remember sitting on street corners, your fingers intertwined in mine. Saying you would never let me fall.” I pause a moment to swallow the lump that is forming in my throat. “But I also remember the fights, sleepless nights. A last goodbye consisting of you ignoring me and starting to pack your bags for tour. Cocaine on the toilet seat.”

Ryan nods. “I was a complete and utter idiot,” he agrees with a sad smile. “It’s just… sometimes I wish I hadn’t been in such a hurry to move forward, you know? That I would have picked up the phone or answered your e-mails. That I never accepted that first line of cocaine. But there always comes a point where it becomes impossible to go back. And after everything that happened between us…” He pauses as if he want to build the suspense. I just wonder how on earth he is planning to finish that sentence. “After everything I just don’t think you deserve me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Ryan.**  
I can’t help but smile when I hear Dylan gasp. She turns her head in my direction so fast I think she might have just strained her neck. She opens her mouth, but I quickly finish my sentence before she can counter my words. “I don’t think you deserve me, Dylan. I think you deserve better,” I say. “ And I think you found it.”

Dylan stares at me for what feels like forever, expression blank. When she eventually does react, she smiles. And I feel myself immediately mirror her expression. It’s such a relief to see her smile again, to know that I caused that smile.

“He’s the love of my life. My soul mate and my best friend,” she tells me. “The one I can tell my dreams to,” she adds. She stares at me intently to gauge my reaction.

Years, maybe even months ago, her words would’ve hurt me. But now I only feel a slight pang of sadness. And I know as the days pass, that feeling will disappear as well. Because after just a few days of watching Dylan and Singer together, I already know that he is everything she deserves. Everything I never could be. Because I never would’ve cared about her dreams. Not back then. That is why I don’t feel jealousy, just plain old curiousity, when I ask, “When did you realize he was the one?”

Dylan doesn’t immediately answer. I can almost see the memories racing through her mind. Eventually she says, “The first time he told me I was the most beautiful girl in the world.” She smiles when she notices my frown. “Not what you were expecting?”

I shrug. “It just seems too superficial for you.”

“People change, Ryan,” she says, but there is no power behind her words. She is even smiling when she continues, “But I understand what you mean. I guess I should tell you why as well, instead of just when.” She pauses a moment and I can tell she is contemplating the best way to explain this to me.

“For the longest time I’ve felt so broken and so inadequate,” she eventually starts with. “When I left Vegas ten years ago… God, it’s hard to believe it has been that long! When I left Vegas, left you, you let me down and tossed me to the side. You’re the reason I was messed up, the reason I couldn’t let myself into another relationship.”

I cringe and shift uncomfortably at her words, but nod for her to continue when she looks at me.

“It took years to patch myself somewhat together again. And then I was stupid enough to go to your show and let you break me down again. I left for Warped only a few weeks later, feeling like no matter what I ever did, or ever said, I was never going to be good enough.”

When she pauses it takes a huge effort to not pull her into my arms and comfort her. I feel guilty for the way I made her feel. But I know she won’t let me touch her. I can’t bear to look at her anymore, so I stare at my hands instead. But my head shoots up again when she continues.

The sudden change in her tone of voice surprises me. “And then Alex appeared,” she says. Her voice sounds light and happy the moment she says his name. “In the beginning it hurt to be around him, because he reminded me so much of you. And even after we started dating I had trouble letting him close. I was so afraid he would hurt me if I opened up to him. But Alex didn’t hurt me, he just waited patiently for me to let him in. His patience is one of the things I love most about him. That and the way he always makes me feel loved. During the first months of our relationship I lived in New York while he was in Vegas. And he would send me flowers when I least expected it. He called me every day. Even now, when I’m not on tour with him, he’ll call to say good night or just because he misses me.” She smiles at the memories.

“One night, not too long before we moved in together, I was spending the weekend with him in Vegas. We ended up in his backyard gazing at the stars. It was one of those moments where there is no need for words. We were mostly silent, but then he suddenly turned to me. He looked in my eyes and told me I’m the most beautiful girl in the world. It came out of nowhere. And that’s when I realized I didn’t just love him, but I was – I am – in love with him. Because when he looked at me and told me that, for the first time in my life I actually believed it.”

“He’s a great guy. And you really look like a great couple,” I admit. The words come easier than expected and to my own surprise, I actually mean every word of it. It isn’t hard to feel happy for Dylan. The sparkle in her eyes when she talks about Singer is bright enough to light an entire room. She clearly has everything she has been looking for. Her love for Singer radiates from every word she says. And even though I haven’t talked to him in years, not since long before I left Panic behind, I can easily tell he feels the same way about her. The way he acts around her, the looks he gives her when she’s not watching, they all show he’s head over heels for her.

Dylan doesn’t question my sincerity, just mutters a quiet “Thank you!” and smiles. I easily mirror her expression.

We sit in silence for a while after that. It probably should feel awkward after everything that has happened between us. But it doesn’t. I don’t think I will ever be able to feel uncomfortable around Dylan. That’s just the effect she has on people.

The peace and quiet, as much peace and quiet one can get when on Warped, gets interrupted by the rumble of footsteps on the stage stairs. Both Dylan and I look up to see the guys from All Time Low descend from the stage. I expect them to give some skimpy comments when they notice the two of us sitting by ourselves in a relatively abandoned corner. But to my surprise they don’t react immediately. It’s only when Dylan smiles at them that matching smiles pop up on their faces. They still don’t say anything, but all high-five Dylan before walking away. I realize they all had noticed the fall out we had when I joined Dylan on side stage earlier. And that they needed to see Dylan smile to reassure them she is okay. I guess that’s how friendship works.

“Are you close to them?” I ask, absentmindedly wondering how many of the people on this tour aren’t friends with Dylan, if any at all.

She shrugs in response. “I’m not as close to them as I am to most of the people from Decaydance, who have practically become family after all these years. But yes, they are my friends. I consider most of the people on this tour my friends,” she explains as if she is reading my mind.

“Even me?” I only barely manage to keep myself from clasping a hand on my mouth after blurting out the words.

Dylan says nothing for a few minutes. I stay quiet as well, not daring to repeat my question. Eventually, after what seems like a lot of consideration, she says, “You know, it took me a long time to realize, but things change as we grow older. People change. And that’s okay, things must change. But they don’t always have to end. So yeah, even though it’s different now, even after everything that happened, I think I do consider you my friend.”

I just stare at Dylan for a moment while she smiles at me. I keep waiting for the punch line. When I’m absolutely sure Dylan means what she just said, I lean close. I move quickly and don’t give myself the chance to doubt my decision. “You’re too good to be through!” I exclaim as I hug Dylan tightly. I can feel her stiffen in my arms at first, but she lets out a small giggle at my words. I feel my face brighten when she slowly relaxes and doesn’t try to get away from me.

I hold on to Dylan for as long as I can, only releasing her when I see Singer and the other guys from the Cab approach. The others climb the stairs to the stage, probably on their way to sound check, but Singer stops in front of us. He doesn’t say anything about us sitting together alone. His face is unreadable. Or at least it is unreadable for me. What follows is a wordless conversation between Dylan and Singer. It seems they are just staring at each other, their expression slightly changing every now and then. But after a few minutes Singer nods. He presses a quick kiss to Dylan’s lips before following after his band mates. All the while ignoring me completely.

Singer has been doing that most of the time, ignoring me. Even in the next couple of days, when Dylan and I cautiously tiptoe around each other in an effort to become friends again, he doesn’t pay much attention to me. Which is why it surprises me when he sneaks up to me a few days after my big talk with Dylan.

I have been watching Dylan interview The Academy Is… the last half hour and now she is fake-fighting with Sisky. She isn’t doing a good job fighting off Sisky’s attacks and things only get worse when Butcher rounds the corner, takes one look at the scene and tackles her. I’m fairly sure that will leave a bruise. Dylan immediately yells that this is unfair, because Andy isn’t even in the band anymore. I cringe, feeling uncomfortable in Andy’s place. But he doesn’t seem to care, just laughs along with her. It’s definitely nice to see Dylan happy and laughing.

“He knew he made a mistake, you could see it in his face. Every time she walked into the room, he wished he hadn’t done that to her,” Singer says as he sneaks up behind me. His voice makes me jump.

I just stare at him for a moment. Unlike the previous days, his expression is no longer unreadable. I feel relieved when I notice he doesn’t seem mad. Instead he looks almost uninterested, just stating the facts. I have a feeling he is anything but uninterested though.

Trying my best to hide my surprise about the fact that Alex is finally talking to me, I just shrug. “I made a mistake. I screwed up,” I generously admit. We both know I’m only stating the truth. “It sucks. But know that isn’t what hurts.” I pause to look at Alex and feel a sad smile forming on my lips. “You know what hurts more than losing somebody? Seeing them around happy without you.”

“So what, you don’t want her to be happy?” Suddenly Singer does sound mad. He seems offended that I would dare to suggest such a thing.

Afraid to make him more angry, I am quick to argue his reasoning. “Of course I do want her to be happy! She deserves to be. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.” I let out a small sigh before continuing, “That doesn’t mean I won’t be reminded of the first time I saw her, every time I see her smile.”

Singer’s face has softened by the time I fall silent. I can almost hear him wonder about that first time I saw her. I’m more than happy to explain, since even after all these years the memory still makes me smile.

“It was odd. I was looking at the crowd from the stage and her hazel eyes met my honey ones. And we didn’t look away. For a moment, caught in this awkward staring glancing thing. And then she did the most amazing thing when she looked away. She smiled.”

“Ah yes, her smile.” Singer nods in understanding. “Her smile is definitely something special. I mean, I love that I’m still able to make her nervous after all these years. And I love the cute little things that happen between us when we’re together. Like how we’re both constantly sneaking glances and when we meet each other’s eyes it’s like the feelings are trying to scream from inside us. But most importantly, I love how the smiles on our faces are permanent the entire time we’re with each other and so effortless that sometimes I don’t even realize how hard I’m smiling. She’s such an amazing girl, she gives me the kind of feeling people write novels about. And there’s no better feeling in the world than knowing she could be with any other guy she wanted, and she chose me.” It once again gets confirmed how head over heels Singer is about Dylan. His eyes sparkle and the way he rambles makes it clear he is blissfully in love.

It may still hurt to see Dylan be happy without me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want her to be happy. Which is what I tell Singer as well. “I’m happy for you guys,” I say. “But I want you to promise me something.”

Singer doesn’t ask any questions, just looks at me and waits for me to continue.

“Our once upon a time didn’t end happily ever after. Make sure yours does. She deserves that.”

Again Singer doesn’t speak. He doesn’t point out how they’ve been going strong for five years and recently got engaged. Or how he wasn’t the one who screwed her over. He just looks me directly in the eyes and, with a simple nod of his head, makes me a silent promise. One that I know he doesn’t intend to break, ever.

And just like that, things are okay between us again.


	5. Chapter 5

** Dylan. **

As time passes after my big talk with Ryan, we slowly get accustomed to each other again. We are nowhere near as close as we used to be all that time ago, but things are getting better again. I don’t flinch at his touch anymore. I find myself laughing at his jokes. One day I suddenly realize we’re ganging up against Brendon, just like old times. Maybe it’s right what they say and time really does heal all wounds.

Unfortunately, while things only get better with Ryan, my nausea only gets worse. And it doesn’t just stop at nausea either. There are days when I am barely able to keep anything down. I feel lightheaded and feverish. I get dizzy for no reason.

“You should really go see a doctor,” Alex tells me one morning while holding my hair back as I am vomiting into the bus toilet. It almost feels as if he is taking care of his hungover girlfriend, except for the fact that a hangover usually pass in a matter of hours.

“I am not seeing a doctor, Alex!” I insist while grabbing some toilet paper to wipe my mouth. This is not the first time we are having this conversation and I know it won’t be the last either. But I am too stubborn to just give in. “You know how I feel about them ever since –”

“Ever since you were ten and that guy had to break your arm again because he set it incorrectly. I know, babe. But this is a completely different situation. You’ve been feeling bad for quite some time now,” Alex tries to reason with me. “I am just worried about you.”

“I know, but there’s no reason to be worried. I’ll be fine.” The words have barely left my mouth when I feel another wave of vomit coming up.

I hear Alex sigh over the splashing of the vomit against the toilet, but he doesn’t comment. He just pets my hair gently and waits for me to feel better again.

After that morning, Alex apparently decides to let the topic rest for a while and doesn’t bother me about it the next few days. Unfortunately the sickness isn’t as kind and just keeps bothering me. I try to shrug it off and keep hoping it will get better, but it doesn’t. And when I find blood in my panties one morning that can’t possibly be from my period, I know it’s time to listen to Alex’s advice and visit a doctor.

I plan on telling Alex about my decision first thing when I walk out of the bunk area into the living space. But then Alex looks up when he hears me walking in. And while he smiles at me, I still see the worry in his eyes. It’s always present nowadays. So instead of telling the truth and causing him more worry, I hear myself blurting out, “I’m going to visit Jac today.”

I haven’t spoken to or heard from Jac Vanek in months. I’m not sure she even knows Alex and I got engaged. But it won’t be the first time one of us shows up on the other’s doorstep unexpectedly and is welcomed with open arms. That’s just the kind of relationship Jac and I have these days.

Alex knows that, which is probably why he doesn’t doubt or question my announcement. He just nods, smiles and tells me, “Have fun, and say hi to Jac from me!”

I feel guilty all the way to the clinic. Aside from the occasional white lie I always tell Alex the truth. And it bugs me that I didn’t do that now. At least, until I step foot out of the cab onto the sidewalk and look up at the building in front of me. The huge sign above the doors reads Planned Parenthood in big white letters. Alex would go mad if he knew I was here.

Picturing his reaction I hurry inside. The last thing I need right now is someone recognizing me. I don’t want to imagine the rumors. People gossip so much, nobody would believe I’m just here for a regular examination.

I prepare for a long wait, but it seems as if whoever has been taunting me with sickness the past weeks is trying to make up for it. I get called into an examination room before I can sink into a chair in the waiting room.

The doctor that is assigned to me is a lady in her mid forties. She’s friendly and takes her time listening to my problem. I’m just thinking how I like her a lot better than my regular OB/GYN, when she announces she wants me to do a pregnancy test.

“A pregnancy test?” I screech, unable to hide my surprise. “Why? I’m bleeding, lady! Isn’t that kind of the opposite of being pregnant?”

I have to give the doctor credit for staying calm after my impolite comment. She gives me time to take a few deep breaths. Then she explains, “A lot of women lose some blood during the first weeks of their pregnancy. It means the fetus is settling.”

“Okay,” I slowly agree. I guess that could be a feasible explanation in a case that isn’t mine. “But I still can’t be pregnant. I’m on birth control and I had my last period two weeks ago.”

“The blood might not have been your period,” the doctor counteracts my argument. “It doesn’t happen very often but sometimes women think they are getting their period and not realize they are pregnant until their due date is near. And birth control isn’t a hundred percent safe either. Have you been sick lately, vomiting, diarrhea?” she wants to know.

I’m about to say I never get sick, aside from lately, when it hits me. It’s probably a good thing I am already sitting down. I can feel all the color has drained from my face. “I had a minor case of food poisoning last month,” I feebly say. “I vomited for three days straight.”

The doctor nods, but doesn’t say anything. She just turns around to go retrieve a stick for me to pee on.

By the time the cab drops me back off at the venue I’ve had three panic attacks and gained several bruises from pinching myself to see whether this isn’t a dream. I am so lost in thought that I walk straight into Travis McCoy on my way to the bus.

“Hey, watch where you are going, small fry!” he jokes. His smile disappears with one look at my face. “Are you okay, Dylan? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I say with a nod. “I think I’m coming down with a bug or something. But don’t worry, I’ll survive.”

My accompanying laugh sounds horribly fake, but Travis seems to buy my explanation anyway. “If you say so,” he says before quickly ruffling my hair and continuing on his way.

It worries me that Travis can pick up on my troubled mood so easily. I am a lot less close to Travis than to most artists on Decaydance. And if even he can read the troubles right off my face, Alex will probably smell them from a mile away. And I don’t want Alex to worry anymore than he already does. Hence, I hope to avoid him on my way to our bus. I need some alone time to think and get my composure back together.

Unfortunately my lucky charm seems to have disappeared on me again. When I think I safely made it to the bus and reach out for the door handle, two arms sneak around my waste and pull me backwards against a comfortable and familiar chest. “Back so soon?” Alex whispers in my ear. His breath is warm on my ear and sends shivers down my spine.

“Yeah, Jac didn’t have much time unfortunately. She had a meeting about her clothing line,” I cringe at the fake nonchalance in my voice. “She told me to tell you hi and give her a call sometime.”

“Hmm,” Alex hums. I can feel him slowly turning me around in his arms. It surprises me that he doesn’t sense my foul mood. He has always been so perceptive. Even in the very beginning, when we just met, he was the only one able to tell something wasn’t quite right with me.

It is only when I look up and find Alex staring at me that I realize how wrong I am. The look on his face tells me he clearly knows something is off.

“Funny you should say that,” Alex says. His face, however, tells me he finds this anything but funny. “Pete came looking for you earlier, because he couldn’t reach you on your phone. I found your phone in the bunks and figured you forgot it. So I called Jac to ask if Pete could talk to you. And guess what?” He pauses to gauge my reaction. I can barely keep looking at him, already feeling ashamed of what I know he is going to say. “Jac told me to tell you hi and give her a call sometime, because she hasn’t heard from you in months.”

I knew my lies had been caught the moment I saw the look on Alex’s face. But it is still hard to hear him say it out loud. I flush bright red. In any other case I would have hidden my face, my embarrassment, in Alex’s chest, but that might not be the smartest idea right now. So I choose to stay silent and stare at my feet instead.

Alex isn’t faced by my reaction. I feel his hands go up to my shoulders. The pressure of his fingers is light, but I still feel them press into my skin when he asks, “Look at me.” His voice is calm, but I know Alex too well to not understand that he is pissed at me.

When I don’t react to his demand, he lifts one hand off my shoulders. I feel his fingers under my chin, pressing upwards and forcing me to look at him. “Where have you been, Dylan?” he asks when I finally meet his eyes. His voice still has the annoyed edge to it, but the look in his eyes tells me the same thing it did this morning. Before any other emotion, it still shouts he is concerned about me.

I stare at him for a moment, feel the hand on my shoulder loosen. And then suddenly I am the one that is annoyed. Out of nowhere I can’t stand the concern anymore. I shake off Alex’s hand and take a step back, away from him. “What, you don’t trust me?” I spit out.

Alex seems taken aback from my sudden outburst. I can’t blame him for being surprised. We’ve had our fair share of discussions, but in the five years that we are together we never had a real fight. But with the way Alex is annoying me right now and the way I am reacting, we seem well on our way to start that first fight.

If Alex has come to the same conclusion, he apparently is willing to take that risk. Instead of backing off and giving me a moment to calm down, he comes closer again and reaches out to take my hands in his. He sighs when I pull away and cross my arms over my chest with an angry huff.

“I do trust you,” he says despite my annoyed reaction. “But you haven’t been feeling well lately and then you disappear, go off to God knows where without telling anybody. I trust you, Dylan. I was just worried about you.”

And just like that my foul mood is gone again. At Alex’s words I feel my anger disappear like snow in the sun. For a moment I wonder if I’m going crazy, with all the moods swings. But then I remember what condition I am currently in. I realize this is probably only the beginning, since hormones will only start raging harder and harder the next months.

Calmed down, it is my turn to take Alex’s hands in mine. I make sure to look in him eyes as I speak, trying to prove I am sincere and honest. “I’m sorry that I lied to you,” I say. “But this is exactly why I didn’t tell you about going to the doctor’s. I don’t want you to be worried. I -”

“You’re my fiance. I’m always worried when you’re not in eyesight. That’s my job.” I am relieved to see a smile appear on his face when he interrupts me. “Now, what did the doctor say?”

A matching smile creeps onto my face at Alex’s sweet words. It’s incredible how after all this time he can still sweep me off my feet with a few simple words. I know Alex loves me as much as I love him. I know deep down that he would never hurt me. And yet I can’t tell him the truth. Whether it’s because I haven’t completely processed it myself or maybe because my past has learned me to be wary of big announcements and plans, I don’t know. But I can’t bring myself to tell Alex the life changing news the doctor gave me. “She said it’s just a bug. I just have to wait it out,” I tell him instead, while carefully avoiding his eyes.

I expect a reaction from Alex, something about how I should stop lying to him. I get none. We just stand there for a moment. When I finally muster the courage to look up at Alex again, I almost cringe. I manage to restrain myself just in time. The concern previously present in his eyes has made room for a whole lot of disappointment.

Eventually Alex is the first one to speak. “Good. I’m glad you’re okay,” he says. It would sound like a normal sentence to anyone else, but I know Alex well enough to realize the tone of his voice perfectly matches the look in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything else, but does pull me into a tight hug.

The combination of Alex’s emotions and my own in enough to stir up my hormones again. Suddenly I am on the verge of crying. I cling onto Alex as tightly as possible.

Tears are about to spill onto my cheeks when I spot Ryan over Alex’s shoulder. He is talking to Ryland and Gabe, who at the moment is telling a story animatedly with lots of hand gestures. Ryan, however, isn’t looking at Gabe but instead staring in our direction.

I furiously blink my eyes to get rid of my tears, but it’s too late. Ryan’s frown clearly indicates he knows something is up. And while Ryan breaks our eye contact and turns to answer something Ryland asked him, I can only hope he will keep his thoughts to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

** Ryan. **

As surprising as it is, I must admit that Warped has been rather uneventful so far. It has definitely been fun and I am not regretting Pete’s invitation. Not at all. I was just expecting a lot more drama when I showed my face again after years of ignoring people. The lack of bad attitude in my direction only shows how amazing the people on this tour are. The only person that I really fought with was Dylan and I completely deserved everything she said to me.

And out of all people, it is Dylan who keeps things interesting. After our fight we slowly start patching the pieces of our friendship back together. It is like walking on eggshells at first, but things get better as tour progresses. We hang out, joke and have fun together. As our friendship gets rekindled Dylan starts spending more and more time with me. It happens gradually and it takes me a while to realize that by spending more and more time with me, Dylan is pushing Singer away from her. She seems to be avoiding him as much as she can. When they are seen together they are often wildly gesturing at each other and talking in rushed, angry voices. I have no idea what is going on between them, but I do know that if they keep this up a huge and ugly fight isn’t far away.

One afternoon Dylan drags me with her to watch VersaEmerge play. It’s a grey day and surprisingly cold for summer. The band is halfway through their set when I decide I really need some coffee, in an effort of getting warmed up again. Over the past few weeks I’ve learned that Dylan’s coffee intake is quite notorious among people on this tour. It’s the most used explanation for her hyper, always active persona. So I don’t even think twice before offering to bring Dylan a cup of coffee as well.

Surprisingly, Dylan declines my offer. “No thanks,” she says without averting her gaze from the band. She doesn’t notice how my eyebrows disappear underneath my bangs. “I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. It’s bad for the b… the body. Some water would be nice though.”

Without commenting I leave Dylan at the side stage to go retrieve our drinks. Dylan is in a good mood today and I want to keep her that way. I like to avoid the mood swings she seems to be having lately.

Her reaction, however, keeps playing in my head. I can’t shake the feeling that she was going to say something else and then changed her mind about it the last second.

I am so lost in thought that I bump right into Greta Salpeter in front of the catering tent. She sways from side to side a few seconds before finding her balance again. “Watch it, Ross! My balance isn’t as good as it used to be,” she laughs. She playfully shoves at me with one hand while steadying her baby bump with the other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” I apologize with a smile, adding, “As ridiculous as that sounds,” as an afterthought.

Greta laughs again before saying, “I am going to take that as a compliment. Now give me a hug!” I comply to her demand with another smile, even though it’s impossible to completely get my arms around her these days.

I can’t help but sneak a few sideway glances at Greta while we make our way to the drinks table. It’s still hard to believe that she is going to be a mom. I always remembered Greta as this sweet, innocent young girl, so it came as quite a shock when I saw her again at the start of tour. It made me fully realize how life hadn’t stopped while I was gone and how much things had changed.

But I guess I’ll always see Greta as the kid sister I never had. I’ll always want to take care of her. And for that reason I offer her a cup of coffee before pouring myself one.

Greta politely declines my offer. “I’m trying to keep my caffeine intake as low as possible. It’s bad for the baby,” she informs me.

When Greta’s words register in my head I just stare at her for a few seconds. The next moment I feel boiling hot coffee pour onto my hand from the overflowing cop I’m holding. I curse loudly and quickly drop the cup. I gratefully accept the napkins Greta offers me. “Are you okay, Ryan?” she wants to know.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine, really,” I assure her. “I just… what you said there, it reminded me of something. I’m sorry, but I really need to go.” Greta opens her mouth to say something, but I’m gone before she can speak.

On my way back to Dylan I have flashbacks of mood swings and nausea and cutting down on coffee and alcohol and cigarettes. And I can’t believe I didn’t realize sooner what is going on with Dylan. And then another wave of disbelief hits me when I realize that Singer probably doesn’t even know. That this is why they are arguing so much lately. Mood swings and morning sickness are hard to deal with, especially when you don’t understand where they are coming from. And Dylan doesn’t seem very keen on explaining.

While wondering if anybody at all knows about Dylan’s pregnancy, I climb the stairs to the side stage. Dylan averts her gaze from the band to look at me. Her hand automatically comes up to accept her drink. It stops mid air when she realizes I didn’t bring her anything. “What, catering ran out of water?”

I send her a smile that is supposed to be apologetic. “I don’t know, I never made it there. I got held up by Greta,” Slightly twisting the truth never hurt anybody, right? Quickly I offer, “But I can get you some if you want to.”

Dylan stares at me for an instant and I’m sure she see right through my lie. I’m sure she notices the tips of my ears burn bright red. But then she laughs and shakes her head. “Nah, I’ll survive,” she says while turning her attention back to VersaEmerge’s performance. Instead of giving Dylan a witty comeback I let out a shaky breath, grateful she doesn’t realize what I figured out.

I try to focus on the concert as well. VersaEmerge puts on a great show as always, but I can’t fully concentrate. My eyes keeps gravitating towards Dylan, who seems to be oblivious to anything but the band on stage. I find myself searching for visual clues that might confirm my thoughts. Dylan doesn’t look different, she definitely isn’t showing yet. Just when I think I won’t find any clues, Dylan’s hand moves to cover her abdomen in a protective manner. Before I can think about it I blurt out, “So, when are you going to tell Singer?”

The movement must have been unconscious, because I can tell Dylan has no idea what I am talking about. She frowns and calmly asks me, “Tell what to Alex, Ryan?”

My gut reaction is to come up with another lie and pretend I have no idea what is going on. A younger me definitely would have lied. But one of the first things I learned in rehab is that it’s of no use to run away from unpleasant situations. Face your problems instead of shoving them aside. So instead of lying, I take a deep breath and respond, “When are you going to tell him you are pregnant? Or does he already know?”

Every doubt that I might have had about Dylan’s pregnancy, wondering if it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, is taken away by the speed at which Dylan turns pale. She stares at me for a moment. Then, before I can register what is happening, she grabs the hem of my shirt. I find myself getting dragged away from the side stage and off the stairs. We end up in the same place our previous big talk took place.

Dylan is breathing heavy. At first I think it is from the effort of dragging me of stage, but when she speaks I realize it is from trying not to blow up in my face. “You better not be spreading rumors about me, Ryan,” she says through gritted teeth. “Cause I swear, we’ll just go back to not being friends in no time!”

“Dylan, I-“

“Don’t Dylan me, Ryan! I…” Dylan is yelling at me before I get a chance to say anything to defend myself. When she notices some of the stage crew staring at us when passing, her voice goes down to a rushed, angry whisper. “I’m serious, no rumors! Besides, how would you know? I’m sure you wouldn’t know how to recognize a pregnancy if it stared you right in the face carrying a name tag!”

Avoiding Dylan’s gaze, I quietly mutter to my shoes, “Actually, I do know the signs of a pregnancy…”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

My muttering clearly isn’t making Dylan’s mood any better. I quickly take a few deep breaths and repeat my words a little louder. I don’t want to piss her off any further. I am, however, still staring at my shoes when speaking. “I said I do know the signs of a pregnancy.” Another deep breath before I can continue. “I know from Z’s pregnancy.”

The big news, old news, is out in the open. I got Z Berg pregnant back when we were dating. The outcome of the pregnancy was part of the reason I lost control of my life. A part that nobody ever knew about until now.

My big ugly secret, followed by heavy silence from Dylan. When I finally muster up enough courage to look at her again I find her staring at me. Her face is drained of all color. I’m sure mine doesn’t look much different.

“So…” she eventually says, “So you’re a father?” Disbelief is dripping from every word.

I flash Dylan a sad smile and shake my head in denial. “No, I’m not a father. Z…” It gets hard to speak around the lump that has quickly formed in my throat. Memories of blood and pain and tears flash before my eyes. I uselessly try to swallow a few times before continuing in a constricted voice. “Z was four months pregnant when she had a miscarriage.”

“Oh, Ryan!” Dylan’s anger is gone again and made room for compassion. In the blink of an eye her arms are around me in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry!” she whispers in my ear.

I gratefully accept Dylan’s hug, but at the same time I shake my head. I sigh into her shoulder. “You don’t have to be sorry for me,” I assure her. “It sucked, yes. Losing the baby was one of the worst things that ever happened to me. It drove Z and me apart. But I know now it was for the best. That kid would have deserved better. Neither Z nor me were ready to be parents.”

I pause for a moment and take a step back so I can look at Dylan. My hand are resting on her shoulders and I give her a reassuring squeeze before saying, “I wasn’t ready to be a parent, but you are.” It goes without saying that you relates to both Dylan and Singer.

I can see on Dylan’s face that she understands the meaning behind my words, but they don’t seem to leave her any less troubled. “Look Dylan, you might be upset,” I persist to try and make her feel better about the situation she is in. “And sure, you have a reason to be. This is happening all so sudden and unexpected. But how many reasons do you have to be happy? A lot more!”

Dylan looks at me with fear and doubt written all over her face. She is nervously biting her lip and I notice she is on the verge of tears. I don’t know what else to say to convince her this pregnancy is not a bad thing. I choose not to say anything and wait for her to speak.

“I’m just so scared of his reaction,” Dylan eventually confesses. “What if he doesn’t want a baby? What if he decides to call off our engagement? I mean, he could just go out there and find himself a new girl in no time. Sometimes I really think someone else could make him happier than I do.” She sighs and stares at her feet. “I guess it’s just my insecurities acting up. Because I know that I am not the prettiest, smartest or most fun and exciting girl.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Dylan looks up at me without a word and I can tell she is anything but kidding. It causes me to let out a sound that has the middle between frustration and disbelief. “I can’t believe you feel that way about yourself. And I definitely cannot believe how quickly years of love and trust and hope are thrown out the window just because something unexpected happened!” 

Dylan opens her mouth, probably to defend her opinion. But I don’t wait for what she has to say. “If it was me, I would be screaming and running away as fast as my scrawny legs would carry me. Hell, that was exactly my first reaction when I found out Z was pregnant. But Singer is not me. He -” I stop talking when I am interrupted by a snort from Dylan. I realize there is a small smile playing around her lips. I feel confused and raise a questioning eyebrow at her. “What’s so funny?” I want to know.

Dylan shakes her head in denial, but the smile keeps playing around her lips. “It’s not funny, not really,” she explains. “It’s just that, the night Alex and I started dating, he said the exact same thing to me. Our conversation ended with ‘I want to give us a chance’, but it started with ‘Have a little faith in me, Dylan. I am not Ryan Ross.’ That’s basically how he convinced me to give it a try with him.”

My stomach twists in response to Dylan’s confession. The thought of how bad and unfair I treated Dylan in the past makes me feel slightly sick. But I know Singer’s remark was right. Over the past few weeks he has clearly proven to be better for Dylan than I ever was of could be. He is the best thing that ever happened to her. So instead of letting the feeling of sickness get the best of me, I point out, “Well, Singer is obviously right. I bet he will be overjoyed and hugging you as tightly as he dares when you tell him the news.”

Dylan is serious again as soon as she gets reminded of her condition. “You really think so?” She stares at me with doubt in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” I assure her. “Even if this is unexpected, he will be só happy to become a dad. And he will be a good one as well. Singer is a good guy, Dylan. You clearly had faith in him back then. So search that faith again and tell him the news.”

For a moment, while she stares at me in silence, I am sure Dylan is going to come up with another excuse to avoid telling Singer. But then she nods. “Yeah… Yeah, you are right. I am going to tell him.” Her voice is firm and she nods repeatedly, as if to convince herself of her own words. There is a small smile playing around her lips again. However, I do still spot some traces of doubt and fear in her eyes.

I don’t know what else I can tell her, so I just pray and hope she doesn’t forget about her good intentions as soon as we part ways.


	7. Chapter 7

** Dylan. **

Time passed quickly after Ryan discovers my secret. During the day I am busy interviewing bands and taking pictures of the show. At night there are barbecues and bonfires and everyone and their mother wanting my attention. So before I know, the last week of tour starts and Alex is still oblivious about my pregnancy.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to tell him, because I have. It’s more that every time I decide to tell him, I’ll say his name and he’ll look at me. And when I look in his eyes a hundred different scenarios play in my head, none of them ending well. And I chicken out at the last moment. I can’t stand the thought of possibly losing him.

Of course I realize this can’t be a secret forever. Sooner or later I will start to show and people will start to realize that I haven’t just gained a little weight. Every night when we go to bed there’s the moment when Alex puts his arms around me and I am scared to death that he will realize what condition I am in.

All the secrecy, all my worries and fears, they make that I avoid Alex more and more. I know very well that I am, but I just can’t help myself. I do even more interviews, take as much pictures as I can, start a blog to give the outside world a glimpse of Warped tour life. I make sure to crawl into bed late at night, hoping Alex is already asleep. And I spend most of my free time with Ryan, who seems to have decided that telling Alex is my own responsibility and doesn’t bring it up again.

Alex senses something is wrong, but can’t put his finger on it. I can tell it is aggravating him. When we speak his answers get shorter and more grumpy with each passing day. He isn’t too fond of my spending so much time with Ryan, which makes the tension between us even bigger.

On the first morning of the last Warped week he eventually can’t stand the tension anymore. “Going to see Ryan?” he asks when I announce I’m not sticking around for breakfast.

I just woke up to the sound of the Beatles playing from Marshall’s bunk, causing me to be in a particularly good mood this morning. Hence, I chose to ignore the annoyance I clearly hear in Alex’s voice. “As a matter of fact, I am,” I confirm in a chipper tone. “We arrived in Texas this morning and Ryan and I both agree that you can’t make a stop in Texas without a good old-fashioned Southern breakfast. So he’s taking me out to get some on this lovely morning.” I press a quick kiss on Alex’s lips before grabbing my wallet and heading out.

I make it to the backside of the bus before I hear the door open again. I don’t look back to see who it is, guessing it’s probably Lucy or Marshall wanting to get some fresh air while it’s still somewhat cool outside.

“You do remember he screwed you over, right?”

When Alex calls out to me, it causes me to stop dead in my tracks. I’m so stunned by his words that it takes me a few moments to react. By the time I have turned around, Alex is standing in front of me. I just stare at him for a moment, unsure how to react. I eventually go for, “Yes, Alexander,” putting emphasis on his entire name so he knows I am in no way happy about his attitude. “But thanks for reminding me, just in case.” My good mood has disappeared like snow in the sun.

I already have my back turned to Alex and am ready to walk away when he speaks again. “Are you cheating on me? Or wait, it isn’t really cheating when you don’t love the person you’re with, right? Lately I’ve been wondering if you ever really loved me or if I was just a nice way to pass the time.”

All the boiling anger, the buildup tension between us, the annoyance he must feel because I have been avoiding him, it all comes out in a few simple words. Words I know Alex doesn’t believe himself. If Alex really thought I didn’t love him anymore or that I was cheating on him he would never call me on it like this, out in the open. Alex likes to keep the things that trouble him, his worries and concerns, to himself as much as he can. That is one of the many things we have in common. But that doesn’t mean his words don’t still hurt.

I slowly turn around and feel myself get more and more annoyed with every inch I get closer to looking Alex in the face again. People around us were busy lighting their first cigarette or enjoying their first sip of coffee, but have now stopped whatever they were doing to stare at us. The situation embarrasses me and I feel my cheeks heat up even before the hushed whispers have started.

When I hear someone walk up to us I instinctively know it’s Ryan. I quickly raise a hand in his direction to stop him from interfering. “No Ryan,” I tell him without breaking eye contact with Alex. “This is between Alex and I, it has nothing to do with you.”

Alex huffs and opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it when he sees the look on my face. Without another word I grab the hem of Alex’s hoodie and drag him back to the bus. Fortunately, our home away from home has emptied out in the short period we were outside. It’s just the two of us, so we can finally get out what it bothering us.

“I love you, Alex!” I start as soon as the door has closed behind me. “I’m in love with you. And no, I am not cheating on you! Seriously, what the fuck Alex? Why would you say something like that?” I started out calmly, but by the end of my sentence anger has showed its ugly face. Anger and fear that this may not become okay again. And thus I yell at Alex.

Without hesitation Alex reacts just as loudly. “Well what am I supposed to think then?” For a brief moment I wonder if our shouting is heard outside the bus. But Alex yells on before I can get concerned about what people might think about us. “Every day you spend less and less time with me. You avoid me as if you really don’t want to be anywhere near me. And the less time you spend with me, the more time you spend with Ryan. Not with Pete or Brendon or whoever, but with Ryan freaking Ross!”

“Well, that’s because Ryan freaking Ross is the only one that knows I’m pregnant!”

My eyes grow big and I clamp my hand in front of my mouth as soon as the words have left my mouth. But it’s already too late. My secret is out in the open. And for a moment the world seems to stop spinning. Everything around me seems to disappear, becomes a blur. The only thing that I see clearly is Alex. Alex staring at me staring at him. You would be able to hear a needle fall in the silence surrounding us.

For what seems like eternity we just stand there staring at each other. Alex is the first one to eventually snap back into reality. He manages to stutter out, “W-what did you just say?” His face is pale as a ghost. He looks unsure and uncomfortable.

And suddenly I can’t look at him any longer. I have to avert my gaze and find particular interest in my Chuck Taylors. For a brief moment I contemplate telling Alex I was joking but the thought passes before it is completely formed. I can’t lie to Alex any longer. Suddenly all the stress of trying to keep my secret takes its toll. Hormones take over again and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper around the lump in my throat as I feel the first tears roll over my cheeks.

Alex doesn’t react at first. It’s so silent that for one frightening moment I am sure Alex has walked out on me. But then there’s suddenly a hand caressing my cheek. Alex’s thumb wiping away the tears. It only causes me to cry harder.

Without a word Alex pulls me down to sit on the couch. I feel his arms slide around me and he hugs me as tight as he can. I gratefully bury my face in his shoulder, soaking his hoodie with the tears that keep streaming down my cheeks.

We sit in silence for a while. Just holding on to each other. Again, Alex is the one that breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he wants to know.

The question is understandable, expected. But the genuine curiosity in his voice surprises me. I pull back a little to look at him, almost confused. “Aren’t you mad?” I wonder out loud.

Alex sends me a smile and sighs at the same time, as if he is not sure what to do with me. “Of course I am not mad, sweetheart. Surprised yes, but I could never be mad at you for giving me such amazing news. I just wish you would have told me first, before anyone else.”

“God, I still wonder what I ever did to deserve you!” A disbelieving sigh escapes my lips, but it is followed by a cautious smile when Alex opens his mouth to answer that question for me. “You know what, don’t answer that!” I shut him up before he can say anything. My reaction makes a grin appear on his face.

For a long second I just stare at Alex. He seems so happy. Beaming at the thought of becoming a dad. It makes me feel so bad for hiding the truth from Alex for so long. I feel the smile on my face decrease at the same time my nausea decreases. I suddenly have an urge to explain myself, explain to Alex why I kept this a secret all this time. Tears begin streaming down my face again.

“I never told Ryan, he figured it out on his own. The initial plan was not to tell anyone at all,” I ramble, trying my hardest not to stumble over my words. “It’s not that I don’t think you’ll be a great dad, cause I’ve seen you with the kids on this tour. I know you’ll be amazing. But I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to do this. Becoming a mom, it’s such a big step. It’s a huge change and you know how horrible I am when it comes to handling changes in my life. And I feared that you maybe didn’t want to have a baby right now and that you would leave me. I know it’s stupid and irrational to think that, but-“

The instant I stop talking to take in a gasp of air, Alex puts a finger on my lips. “Shh… Calm down, it’s okay,” he tries to insure me. He fails miserably. Instead of being comforting, his words just make me feel even more guilty and stupid. I start crying harder and bury my head in Alex’s chest again, soaking his hoodie further. He decides to just hold me close, his arms around me in an attempt to comfort me when words can’t.

We just sit like that for a while. Me crying and feeling horrible for keeping this to myself for so long and wondering how on earth I ever deserved a guy as amazing as Alex. And Alex just holding me close with his hand sweeping up and down my back. Every now and then I feel him lightly kiss my hair. As always is the case, just being close to Alex is enough to eventually make me feel better. I calm down and my tears turn into quiet little sobs until those stop as well.

When Alex realizes I have stopped crying, he doesn’t let go. He just kissed my hair again. Then he quietly whispers in my ear, “Are your hormones done raging now?”

The words make me smile into his hoodie before whispering back, “Yes. Yes, I think they are done for now.”

“Good,” Alex answers. I feel his hand on my cheek, directing my head so that I am obligated to look at him. “Then you can now listen, really listen to what I have to say.”

My stomach turns into an uncomfortable twist at Alex’s words and suddenly I am sure that this is it. That Alex is going to break up with me right here and now. His words, however, manage to surprise me.

“I’ve said it already, but I will say it again. I am not mad at you,” he begins. He stares me right in the eyes as if to make sure all my attention is focused on him. “How could I be mad at you? From the moment I watched you get out of that cab on that rainy Warped night all those years ago I know that you were special. It only took me a few hours until I vowed to myself that I would make you happy again and that I wanted to take away whatever concerns you were bothered with. And you know why? Because I wanted my future wife and mother of my kids to be happy and not have to worry about anything. I had only spend a few hours with you, but I could already picture our future. Together. And I know five years have passed since then, but nothing much has changed. If anything, I can see our future more clearly now. I’ve seen you around Pete’s and William’s and Brendon’s kids. When I put this ring around your finger…” As Alex rambles on I can feel him link his hand with mine, briefly stroking the ring he gave me a few months ago. “When I did that I knew it wouldn’t be long before we would be talking about getting some kids of our own. And it didn’t bother me, I wanted that with you. I still want that.”

Alex falls quiet for a moment and all I can do is stare at him. I don’t know if I can find words to react to this declaration of love.

Luckily for me, Alex isn’t finished yet. He takes in a deep gulp of air and continues. “So I assure you, right here and right now, that while that little human growing inside of you might be unexpected, it is most definitely not unwanted. You couldn’t have given me any greater gift, Dylan. And I will absolutely not leave you, anything but. This baby will have a smart and funny and beautiful mommy and a daddy who promises to love that mom no matter what… And I will love you endlessly. Remember?”

I cannot help but snort out a laugh. Leave it to Alex to break the tension by quoting song lyrics. I’ve got to give him credit though, for making me feel better. Whether it’s his words or his way to relief the tension – probably both – he manages to lift the weight that has been pushing on my heart since I got the news of my pregnancy. I smile brightly at Alex and tell him, “Thank you. I needed that. I guess I knew deep down that there was nothing to worry about, but I needed to hear you say it. I love how you always know exactly what to say to make everything better. I love you, Alexander Michael DeLeon!”

Alex mirrors my smile. His thumb brushes over my cheek to sweep away a few long forgotten tears. Then he leans close and whispers in my ear, “Well, what a coincidence. Because I love you too, Dylan Elizabeth Tanner.” His words cause me to giggle, a sound that feels so liberating.

As if on cue, we both lean into each other. Our lips are about to touch when a voice comes from the doorway. “Is it safe to come in?” Spencer wants to know.

Alex looks at me and rolls his eyes. The movement makes me laugh out loud, a sound that is partially drowned in a quick peck on my lips from Alex. I feel surprisingly light, better than I have in quite some time.

Spencer apparently decides that it’s safe, because he steps onto the bus without waiting for an answer. He is followed closely by Marshall, who takes one look at us and says, “Oh good, you haven’t killed each other yet.”

My eyebrows disappear underneath my bangs as I stare at Marshall. From the corner of my eye I see Alex’s brows make the same motion.

Marshall shrugs when he notices the looks on our faces. “Hey, don’t look at me. Brendon heard you two fight and then everything went silent. He didn’t dare to check it out himself, so he send us in to survey the damage.”

I feel a smile creep onto my face. “Well, you can tell Brendon that we are still very much alive and kicking. No damage done!” I make sure to talk loud enough so that someone standing outside the door could hear me.

As I expected, Brendon’s head appears in the doorway. His cheeks turns a deep shade of pink when he notices Alex and I are huddles together, clearly very unharmed. “Don’t scorn me for being worried about you guys,” he tries to play it cool as he walks further into the bus. “I’m relieved to see that you two are okay.”

Alex is grinning besides me but he doesn’t comment on Brendon’s ever present curiosity. Instead he mentions, “We’re more than okay actually. Dylan just gave me the most amazing news.”

Three pairs of eyes stare our way, clearly waiting for Alex to elaborate on the news. When he doesn’t, Brendon, curious as he is, is the one that asks what they all want to know. “Well, care to share and elaborate on that news?”

I watch Alex flash a bright smile in Brendon’s direction. He opens his mouth to speak. And closes it again before words can come out. His gaze flashes in my direction.

I can easily read the hidden question in his eyes. I smile at Alex and nod in confirmation to his unasked question. “It’s okay, babe. You can tell them.”

Alex’s face brightens immediately. He presses a quick kiss to my lips before returning his attention to the three boys standing in front of us. “Dylan is pregnant,” he calmly announces. The next moment his calm facade is gone and he all but yells, “I’m going to be a dad!”

For a split second the boys in front of us seem frozen in place. Then they snap out of their surprise and big smiles light their faces. The air gets filled with OhmyGod and That’sawesome and congratulations. I feel myself being pulled up from the couch and into a warm hug from Brendon. From the corner of my eye I see Alex getting the same treatment from Spencer.

When the last hugs are exchanged, Brendon starts telling a funny anecdote from when Sarah was pregnant. Halfway through the story I feel Alex lean against my back, his head comes resting on my shoulder. And as he comments on Brendon’s story I feel his hands slip around my waist to end up gently rubbing over my abdomen.

As I lean into his touch I wonder why I was ever worried about this pregnancy, about Alex’s reaction. Because here in Alex’s arms is where I belong. Everything about this moment feels right. If feels like coming home. And I’ll never be leaving again.


	8. Chapter 8

** Dylan. **

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. And as is usually the case when you are having fun, my time on Warped has gone by too fast. I have had good days and unfortunately also some bad ones. Laughter was mixed with tears, friendship and love with fights and fears. Yet, if I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

My Chemical Romance has the honor of giving the final performance of this year’s Warped. All other shows have ended already and everybody seems to have gathered to watch My Chem’s show. The crowd is definitely the biggest I have ever seen on Warped tour and people are crowding the backstage, trying to get a glimpse of the stage. Alex and I had made sure to arrive on time and are able to watch the show from side stage, surrounded by friends. My Chem is giving the performance of a life time and I know the pictures I snap every now and then are going to be amazing.

It isn’t a surprise that Sing is the last song in the set. The song has turned out to be the anthem of this tour and always guarantees huge singalongs. It also isn’t a surprise to see Mikey and Gerard share a look; the Way brothers are infamous for their wordless communication on stage. It does, however, come as somewhat of a surprise that after the moment of silent communication with his brother, Gerard turns his back to the crowd and, with a huge grin on his face, sends a quick nod in Bob’s direction. We all watch Bob let out a laugh that is inaudible over the music.

The next moment I notice the rhythm of the music has changed. Obviously having planned this, the band follows Bob’s rhythm change effortlessly. When Frank runs up to his mic, throws his fist in the air and shouts a “Just come on and come on!” to the audience, I realize the song has changed into P!nk’s Raise Your Glass. The crowd goes wild when they come to the same realization and I loudly join them in cheering on the band. “So raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways…” The band couldn’t have picked a better anthem to end this tour.

As I stand there watching and singing along from the side with a huge grin on my face, Mikey and Gerard have one of their moments again. Without missing a note Gerard nods to Mikey in agreement. The grin on Mikey’s face widens and he suddenly stops playing. Before I can frown or even just wonder what is going on, Mikey has handed his guitar to one of the techs and comes running in our direction. Without saying anything he grabs my hand. I am just quick enough to grab Alex’s hand, causing us both to be pulled on stage.

I don’t even have to bother to try an raise my voice above the excited roar of the crowd to ask what is going on, because in the blink of an eye Mikey lets go of my hand and runs to the side of the stage again. He grabs Hayley Williams by the hand and motions for the rest of the people to follow him.

It feels quite awkward to be on stage in the middle of a show, while I am usually the one watching from the sidelines. I cannot help but be confused as the stage quickly gets filled with people.

Gerard walks up to me and I jump when I feel his breath on my ear. “This is the story of us, Dylan,” he whispers. He is clearly amused by my reaction. “All of us. So come on and come on!” He gives me a hug, which I gladly return. I couldn’t agree more, we’re all in this together.

While Gerard takes a moment to talk to the audience again, I look around with a smile. The stage is big, but still not capable of fitting us all and people have spread out into the front stage. My fingers itch as I watch the people around me, laughing and having fun. I quickly grab the camera dangling around my neck and start snapping pictures.

Mark Hoppus, who has somehow got his hands on a tambourine and effortlessly falls into the right rhythm. Bronx Wentz and Genevieve Beckett dancing some sort of rockabilly in the front stage, with their dads watching them with matching smiles. I get a close-up of Brian Dales. He is close to my left and grinding up against Vicky-T, who can’t stop laughing. When I turn to the right I am just in time to snap the high fives Andrew McMahon gets from Marshall and Nate Ruess after he gets behind the keyboard and starts playing along with the band with perfect timing. Brendon and Dallon Weekes a little more to the side of the stage. They have lifted their daughters onto their shoulders and are swaying them to the rhythm of the music. I catch Ryan and Spencer not too far from Brendon and Dallon, seemingly trying to teach Benji Madden proper jazz hands.

I take picture after picture. Just as I have taken one of Jordan from the Ready Set and Sierra Kusterbeck and Gerard shouting “Nitty Gritty Dirty Little Freaks” into the same mic, my camera memory tells me it only has room for one more picture. I quickly decide that this series wouldn’t be complete with a picture of the people who enabled us to be on this stage, on this tour. My last picture is one of the audience.

As I lower my camera and just look at my friends, my family around me, I feel Alex’s arms sneak around my slightly expanded belly. I feel him press a kiss onto my cheek. And while we start to sway in time with the music, understanding downs on me. I suddenly understand that no matter how many plans you make or steps you follow, you never know how your day is going to end up. You’d prefer to know, of course, what curve balls will be thrown your way. But it’s the accidents that always turns out to be the most interesting parts of your day. The people you never expected to show up, a turn of events you never would have chosen for yourself. All of a sudden you find yourself somewhere you never expected to be and it’s nice. It may take some getting used to, but somewhere down the line, you’ll find yourself appreciating it.

And while Warped comes to an end around me, I realize that this is all I ever wanted. That life may not be perfect, but it’s perfect for me.


End file.
